


paint me quickly

by minibobas



Category: Red Velvet (K-pop Band)
Genre: Angst, Colors, F/F, Poetry, artist!joohyun, can you tell, dancer!seulgi, joohyun has severe anxiety, past tense refers to joohyun's memories, this whole thing was just me projecting my anxiety and endless love for kang seulgi onto joohyun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 17:40:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13885821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minibobas/pseuds/minibobas
Summary: joohyun doesn’t remember when her life came crashing down, but she sure as hell remembers the day seulgi left.or: after seulgi breaks her heart, joohyun spends the next twelve months trying to piece it back together.(title from mamamoo’s paint me)





	paint me quickly

april was grey.

grey like the clouds, spilling tears out of the sky in an endless shower of icy drops, pelting the deep concrete-washed pavement, spilling into the dirt and swirling into a murky _grey._

“tears are cleansing, unnie,” her girlfriend had told her one day as they applied clay mud masks seulgi had bought as a surprise earlier that day (joohyun had been complaining about her pores feeling clogged for as long as she could remember), dabbing a smudge of black gently from the tip of joohyun’s nose. “did you know that? they wash away impurities, even when you can’t feel it.”

_they heal the cracks._

“is that so, seulgi-ssi?” joohyun mused, grinning gently. scrunching up her nose, she swatted seulgi’s hand. “ouch, this tickles.”

seulgi giggled. “stop moving! the clay is drying, dummy,” she apprehended, nonetheless returning the most radiant smile joohyun had ever witnessed. 

she swore she stopped breathing for a second.

_they heal the cracks._

so joohyun stands underneath the curtain of raindrops, catching the clouds' tears through her fingertips as she waits for them to wash away her impurities,

waits for them to heal the cracks.

it doesn’t work—it never did.

she would try again tomorrow.

 

 

may was splashed with color.

joohyun took to strolling through the local park every afternoon, admiring the scenery lazily with her headphones plugged in.

she drowns in the faded greens, the delicate hues that splattered the ground, the sparkle in the leaves, the flower stems, the few luscious blades of grass.

the grass! joohyun giggles as the memories resurface.

“bae joohyun!” she called, tripping over herself as she struggled after the elder. “stop—running—so—fast!”

joohyun turned around, wearing a terribly elfish grin. seulgi was nearly twenty paces behind her, doubling over as she caught her breath. “can't keep up, seul?”

“hyunnie,” seulgi pouted, jutting out her hip. “why are you so mean?”

she collapsed in the grass, legs facing outward, sticking out her tongue. she looks like an upset toddler, joohyun thought to herself.

“i like it when the dew makes the grass wet,” seulgi remarked absentmindedly, to no one in particular, squeezing fistfuls of grass in her clenched fists. “it makes my toes feel nice.”

_she’s so cute,_ joohyun thought, smiling to herself as she snuck up behind her girlfriend. plopping down next to her, she picked up strands of seulgi’s silky dark hair and ran her fingers through it.

seulgi sighed and laid her head back onto joohyun’s shoulder. neither girl said a word. they stayed that way, silent and content, for what seemed like hours, melting into each other’s embrace.

she wishes she had taken a picture.

joohyun smiles sadly and keeps walking, turning up the volume of kim taeyeon’s husky voice crooning into her ear and pretending she can feel the wet grass tickle her toes through her sneakers.

 

 

june was a hurricane, a storm of memories, broken smiles and torn laughter, painted in a soft lilac.

seulgi was crying.

joohyun found her curled up on the cold navy purple tiles, burying her sobs in their shared shower curtain.

_oh, baby,_ joohyun thought, _no, don't cry._ she didn't say anything.

perched next to the quivering girl, she tried her best to rub comfortable circles along her spine. it’s alright, she wanted to say. still, no words came out.

“unnie,” seulgi whispered, sniffling, “why couldn’t i be born normal?”

_but sweetheart, you’re perfect, who gave you that ridiculous idea?_

sure, joohyun had a rough idea—why wouldn’t those homophobic assholes just keep their dirty mouths shut? she would never have the courage to do what seulgi does every day. seulgi pours her soul out in every choreography, she wears her heart on her sleeve, waves it around with an air of that often makes joohyun nauseous just thinking about.

and joohyun stands on the sidelines and watches as anonymous internet trolls grab her by the neck and tear her down, bit by bit, until seulgi is nothing but doubt and self-hate.

_(she remembers the first time she had seen seulgi this shaken—the man was drunk, and seulgi’s top rode up a little too high._

_“ditch the dyke, sweetheart,” he had leered at the younger, “i bet i can show you a better time.”_

_seulgi had thrown the punches, and joohyun had stood there frozen in fear, too shocked too rescue her knight in shining armor until after her lip had been busted and blood dripped down her front._

_after a few bottles of wine, seulgi had forgiven her, of course, but joohyun could never bear to forgive herself.)_

she ached to scream, to wipe away the tears and kiss her till she was bathed in warmth, in affection, until seulgi believed exactly what joohyun desperately wanted to say.

but she couldn’t, and they both knew it.

joohyun shook her head instead, hand never leaving the younger’s back. she could just barely make out the glint of disappointment in seulgi’s eyes.

june was tears, tears of color and guilt. 

“huh,” seulgi laughed awkwardly, hurriedly attempting to dry her eyes, “i did say tears are cleansing.” she sniffled once more, forcing a sheepish grin. “maybe they’ll fix me.”

joohyun shook her head again. _no, no, no,_ her heart begged, _don't let them get to you. please don't._ they locked eyes.

_why can't you hear me?_ joohyun cried, her own tears threatening to well up. seulgi looked away.

“i think i’m gonna stay with yerim for a little bit,” she announced quietly, picking herself up slowly. joohyun made no move to stop her, rooted to her place.

manicured nails clutching the bathroom doorknob, she paused. “don't do anything rash, please, unnie.”

joohyun flinched. seulgi refused to meet her pleading eyes.

doors slammed in lilac, she cried lilac tears and burned in lilac flames.

minutes later, she heard the familiar click of the lock. joohyun collapsed.

she was the eye of a tornado, drowning in guilt and broken promises and endless regrets.

_you're an idiot,_ she chanted to herself, _a goddamn idiot, bae joohyun, how could you let her suffer like this?_

she cries because there was no one there to stop her.

 

 

july was mellow, quiet like the muted pinks stretched across the sky.

it was sharp, unassumingly so, the biting cold at night when joohyun watched the sunset, admired the dainty colors and the soft glow of light as the sun disappeared.

“hyunnie,” seulgi would say, those nights that they climbed up the hill, hand in hand, and spread that hideous checkered picnic blanket (joohyun was ninety-nine percent sure seulgi had stolen it from sooyoung’s closet—not that she was complaining) down on the grass, “how are you not cold?”

“maybe i’m cold-blooded,” joohyun joked, smiling at the younger. she’s swaddled from head to toe in both of joohyun’s favorite sweaters, striped pink and yellow, dulled orange in the fading sunlight. 

“no,” seulgi would reply, “that's not right.” and she would furrow her brows, pretending to rack her brain.

(joohyun could see right through her, despite seulgi’s efforts. neither of them had ever been decent actors.)

“sooyoung was telling me yesterday about how angels don't get cold…” she trailed off, her eyes softening. “that must be it.”

god bless that walking encyclopedia, joohyun thought, and she leaned in.

and the light was reflecting perfectly over seulgi’s cheeks, illuminating her soft cheekbones, caressing her plush lips, her beautiful pink mouth…

_ethereal._ seulgi looked ethereal.

so joohyun kissed her under the stars, as cliché as it was, with the smiling moon their only witness. and seulgi tasted like diet pepsi and pineapple chapstick, the strangest combination that she swore by and joohyun had never in her right mind imagined she would enjoy so much.

and for a moment, everything was okay.

when joohyun hikes up to the hill, she’s out of breath; her lungs burn as she struggles with the blanket.

(it’s not the same one. sooyoung had reclaimed that one weeks ago. it’s nights like this when joohyun is glad she did.)

this time, she cries because there was no one to share its beauty with. 

but silently, like the beautiful pink she mourns in the morning.

 

 

august was blue, pastel and pretty, hopeful and hopeless, all crowed onto the same canvas. 

watercolors filled every inch of the world joohyun could see, flooding soft clouds and the faded periwinkle t-shirt seulgi used to wear on sundays when neither of them cared to get out of bed before noon.

(seulgi had taken that with her too, after all—it was her favorite t-shirt—but joohyun liked to pretend she would still wake up some morning to the scent of bluebells and laundry detergent.)

_(“bluebells don’t have a scent, hyunnie,” seulgi would argue, but joohyun would simply laugh and chalk it up to poetic license.)_

joohyun turned over the bottle in her hand. _prescription,_ the label read. biting her lip, she turned to the pale brunette woman sitting across from her. “will this help?”

the woman smiled reassuringly, fire-engine red nails tapping a rhythm atop her clipboard. “it’s been tested with extremely positive results for major anxiety disorders. we may have to play around with your doses a bit, but i am incredibly hopeful.”

joohyun looked down again. _10 milligrams, two tablets a day._ hesitantly, she forced a smile. “thank you.”

august was cotton candy, a little too sweet and a little too empty.

“don’t mention it, sweetheart,” the doctor smiled (joohyun couldn’t bring herself to remember her name for the life of her) and she cringed internally. 

and she was too desperate, soaking up the honeyed mess through her fingertips, as if somehow— _somehow_ —it would fix everything.

joohyun wakes up with a splitting headache the next morning, and decides to skip the first of many doses.

 

 

september was golden, warm orange radiating from the fluttering leaves.

those days, joohyun rarely saw seulgi—even amidst her scarce appearances, they barely exchanged a few words.

it took a couple weeks, but sure enough, joohyun found herself coming to the painful realization that she had grown used to it.

she liked the rare instance of solace. she— _liked_ it. just her and her thoughts, alone in her—their—cramped apartment.

sure, joohyun had problems—she could barely count her own diagnoses on all ten fingers. but surprisingly, separation anxiety—or loneliness, for that matter—wasn’t one of them.

joohyun liked being alone. she liked quiet, enclosed spaces.

she took this time to paint.

she painted autumn leaves and blissful scenery in brash acrylic and covered nearly every surface in sight. she painted until her head spun and she found herself picturing gold stripes on her mother’s curtains.

breathe in, hold. stroke. breathe out, swish. repeat.

eyes closed. shoulders relaxed. back straight. hold.

inhale, exhale. breathe in, breathe out. hold. repeat.

her lips curl upwards.

_(september thirtieth, 2017—for the first time in six months, joohyun remembers how to breathe.)_

 

 

it rains on halloween. joohyun stays inside.

“i know you don’t like people, hyunnie,” seulgi had offered gently. “but—don’t look at me like that, i’m just telling the truth—it’s halloween!”

so joohyun, much to her own dismay, had allowed seulgi to dress her in a plain black dress and drag her outside.

“is this one of your kinks i should know about?” joohyun grumbled, tugging on her fluffy cat ears. seulgi smirks.

“it wasn’t until you put that on,” she answered slyly, tightening the arm around joohyun’s waist.

the rest of the night flew by in a blur of stolen kisses, hesitant touches, and whispered promises.

when joohyun came down from her high, seulgi was curled up next to her, lips swollen and limbs entangled together.

she shivers, tucking her chin deeper under the covers.

 

 

joohyun doesn’t remember when her life came crashing down, but she sure as hell remembers the day seulgi left.

_(“this isn’t working, joohyun.”_

_it wasn’t until the younger’s room was cleaned out, drawers empty and clothes gone, that joohyun realized—this—had been inevitable.)_

she spends christmas with sooyoung, who’s already a functioning alcoholic on a good day; watches the new year’s countdown with a glass of wine in hand and an empty seat beside her.

she’s used to it, joohyun convinces herself.

by the fifth drink, she almost believes it.

 

 

january welcomes her with a flurry of freezing winds and day after day of biting cold. joohyun spirals out of control.

her last refill was due over a month ago. there’s a long list of missed calls from her psychiatrist on her cell phone.

sooyoung has become a constant presence in her life—dropping by twice a week, reminding her to eat her meals, occasionally raising an eyebrow at the half-full lexapro bottle in the recycling bin.

“have you ever thought of getting a therapist, unnie?” sooyoung had asked a few days prior.

joohyun scowled. “why? so someone else can remind me how messed up my life is?”

sooyoung shook her head dejectedly, and changed the subject.

 

 

february, it turns out, is kind to joohyun.

yerim, the little brat, decides to sign for an online dating site in joohyun’s name. without telling her.

oh, and there’s a girl involved. who wants to meet her. who’s _interested_ in her.

if joohyun threatens to murder the younger girl when sooyoung bothers to tell her this over the phone, well, her date doesn’t have to know.

(“her name is son seungwan, hyunnie,” sooyoung confides in her through embarrassed giggles. “she’s 24 this month. and she’s really cute.”

joohyun gulps nervously, but agrees nonetheless.)

 

 

the doorbell rings in march. joohyun winces as the _ding, dong_ pierces the air.

she adjusts her spectacles, squinting at the clock.

it’s almost noon. _seungwan said she wouldn’t be here until two,_ she recalls.

cursing the younger girl’s punctuality, she picks her way to the door.

the door swings open. it’s not seungwan.

kang seulgi’s hair hangs loose over her shoulders, darker now, bangs splaying across her forehead. she’s swaddled in a pastel yellow sweater, long sleeves extending past her fingertips.

_she looks…good. healthier._

_happier?_

“hey,” seulgi’s voice is confident, tone barely wavering as she looks up at the older. “can i come in?”

joohyun gapes.

she nods, stepping back to let seulgi through.

it’s awkward, joohyun won’t lie, but it feels like years since she’s seen her, and to hell if she didn’t miss seulgi’s smile.

(she’s not quite smiling now, more like a somber grimace, but joohyun will take whatever she gets.)

there’s a grocery bag thrown over seulgi’s shoulder; she’s shifting it from side to side as if it’s hurting her. joohyun frowns.

“do you need help with that?”

they lock eyes.

seulgi breaks eye contact first, biting her lip. she lets out a short laugh. “actually, it’s for you.”

_oh._

“happy birthday, hyunnie,” she mumbles, thrusting out the paper bag. joohyun takes it.

“should i…open it?” she inquires gently. seulgi nods.

a box of watercolor paints, under a hastily tied ribbon.

joohyun peers inside. twelve tubes, all different colors.

“i didn’t have time to wrap it, i’m sorry, i’ve been really busy—” joohyun cuts her off.

“it’s perfect. thank you.”

joohyun is too mesmerized by the gift to notice seulgi’s quickly reddening cheeks.

“i should go,” she murmurs. _i’m sorry._

“thank you for coming.” _i forgive you._

she’s making her way to the door when joohyun calls her name.

“seulgi?”

she answers almost immediately. “yes?”

“i’m better now,” joohyun blurts out. seulgi stares.

she watches as the younger’s expression softens. “i’m happy for you.”

(and this time, when seulgi smiles at her, joohyun’s heart refuses to skip a beat.)

**Author's Note:**

> whew i thought this would never end
> 
> big thanks to hayley!! my editor!!! and best friend!!! i love u bitch
> 
> twitter: @yewonified


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